Avi Marie's Arc

Chapter 2 of 30

The trail ran downhill, and the light thinned with every step. Avi Marie felt it before she saw it. Her wings grew heavy. Her glow dimmed like a lamp low on oil. Garrett stopped at the edge where the grass turned gray. "The low places," he said. "Go in like this and you'll be flying on empty." She knew he was right. She could feel her strength draining toward the dark ground ahead. If the beast struck her there, she would have nothing left to fight it. "An angel loses power in places like that," she said. "I need to carry my strength with me. Something the low places can't drain." Garrett scratched his beard. He did not trust angels, she could tell. He watched her the way he watched the tracks, like a problem he had not solved. But he lost three souls too. That kept him beside her. "Then we don't go empty," he said. "I know a stable near here. Kept holy." He led her to a white barn shaped like a chapel, ringed by flowers. The building held its own light even at the edge of the dark. Inside stood a white horse with wings and a single horn. Sparks trailed from its hooves. It turned its head toward Avi Marie and did not shy. "It carries its own heaven," Garrett said. "Ride it in and the low places can't touch you the same." Avi Marie stepped close. The horse breathed warm against her palm. Its glow poured into her fingers, and her wings lifted on their own. Her strength came back, steadier than before. She gathered a cluster of the shimmering flowers from the fence. She had seen their kind burn bright in dark rooms. "These too," she said. "Light I can hold." She mounted. The horse rose, and its light rose with her. Together they crossed into the gray. The cold pressed in, but it slid off the horse's glow. Her power held. For the first time she felt ready to face what waited. Garrett walked at her side, following the clawed prints. They led to a low ridge, then stopped. He crouched and touched the dirt. "Trail splits here." He pointed one way, then another. "Two sets. Same claws." Avi Marie's stomach turned. "There are two of them?" "No." Garrett stood slowly. "One went in. One came out. Fresh." He looked back the way they had come, toward her villa. "It circled behind us. It's hunting somebody else now." The flowers in her hand shivered. Avi Marie gripped the horse's mane. She had armed herself for the low places. But the beast had already left them. She was strong now, ready, and pointed at the wrong door. Whoever it hunted next did not have wings or a glowing horse. "Then we don't go down," she said. "We follow it back up. Now."